


Morning

by sweptaway



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: "i hate finnick and i wish he died in the games" - finnick odair, F/M, and suggestive humor/actions. they just are being silly Only, he's a fool and a moron he's such a moron fool Just for her, ofc there are vague mentions of sex trafficking but that goes without saying unfortunately, this is mostly a silly little thing :D, this is ninety percent just him teasing her and making a fool of himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24898840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweptaway/pseuds/sweptaway
Summary: "good morning i'll make u want to emotionally strangle me" thats what finnick said with his own mouth
Relationships: Annie Cresta/Finnick Odair
Kudos: 25





	Morning

“Do you ever think about marriage?” Annie asked, skirting the edge of the shore. She hadn’t been swimming, she was dry and in her nightdress, she just liked the way the small waves settled against the coast, met at her ankles. And Finnick liked the way the early morning sun lit her up, outlined her, she glowed like an angel. To him, she always glowed like that, but it was nice to see it represented.

“Sometimes,” he replied, far too focused on following her movements with his eyes. He was sitting, arms folded over his knees, one of the knew shells she found in his hands, brushing the sand out from it. “Do you?”  
Finnick was avoiding answering properly, as always. _Sometimes_ , he said, but he meant in the abstract. He’s thought about the idea of marriage, he thought they were already good as married, he knew they couldn’t get closer than that. He hated it, he wanted her there forever, whatever holy matrimony would seal them together for that forever. And forever was a hard word, but for Annie, that was all he wanted. But he knew the bigger issues along with that — he gets married, he gets the whole Capitol up in arms against him more than he already has. Maybe against her again. He couldn’t do that to her, not to his Annie.

“Of course I do,” she said, the eye roll she gave him was audible, but she stopped walking. The sun wasn’t directly behind her anymore, it was no longer a halo but instead shined on her face, making her almost squint. “That’s why I asked,”

Finnick laughed, focused on the shell, put it in the water and shook it drier. “Should’ve been specific,” he’s grinning and she wishes she could knock him over into the water.

“I was,” Annie hated how he ignored the topic of marriage, or of forever-ness. It hurt in too many ways, more than she could understand. So she got down, folded her legs underneath herself, took the shell from him and then took his hand too. “Do you want to marry me?”

It’s more firm. His ever present confident façade falters. She has both of his hands now, holds them to her lips, and her eyes are closed. He knows this, she’s asking him to let his walls down.

For her, he’ll try.

“Yes,” it’s confident again, and her smile lights up her face again without her eyes even opening. “More than I should,” Finnick gently moves his hands out of her grip, and almost too softly cups her cheeks. “I think you know that though,”

And she does. There’s always something lingering in his eyes whenever Mags asks how they’re spending their alone time, or any time kids come up and get one of theirs’ attention, or sometimes, late at night when he holds her, he’ll play with her hand, trace her fingers, and each of these situations leads to him looking like he wants to say something. Annie likes to follow his eyes, watch the gears turn in his head, and she likes to imagine she knows the hundreds of things he’d like to say, but realistically she knows she doesn’t. Finnick’s complicated and so is his mindset, but she’d sure love to know every single thing he thinks.

So she nods, of course. And tips her head up more towards him, requesting a kiss. Which he gives her, but not on her mouth. Finnick instead gently kisses her forehead, sliding his hands more towards the nape of her neck, fingers stroking her hair, the sensation making her giddy with hope that he’ll kiss her.

He only smiles through, planting another slow kiss, this time by her eyebrow. Either he’s teasing her or trying to savor every touch as best he can. Or both -- it’s _Finnick,_ of course it’s both.  
He barely lifts his face up at all to move on to kiss the next area(this time next to her eye), more so dragging his nose over her skin, nearly tickling it. And she giggles a quiet “stop it”, her voice always so light and airy around him, but so sure of everything she says. He had no idea it was possible to be so beautiful in every regard, but Annie’s full of surprises.

“Odair,” she almost whines, and his smile grows more playful against her cheek. “Just kiss me.”

“I am,” and he does. Kisses her jaw, and strokes at where he kissed with his thumb, as if he’s rubbing the feeling into her skin, making it linger.

“You think you’re so funny,” Annie murmurs, all of what he does making her sleepy. Especially when he hums in response, a single little “mm” that says she’s right, he finds himself hilarious and kisses his way back up her cheek. She couldn’t kiss him herself now, that’d be losing whatever game he’s set up.

Finnick humors her, tries to see if she’ll take initiative, ghosts his lips over hers, making her so excited that laughter _almost_ bursts out of her, instead short giddy breathes slip out, but he only kisses her chin, which leads to Annie gasping in exasperation, and pushing at his chest.

“You’re a tease,”

“It’s fun,”

She rolled her eyes, considered reaching for him and curling up on his chest, but no - then he’d win again. “You make this impossible,”

“What? Kissing?”

“You make me _sad_ ,” she’s lying, but oh is it cruel. Finnick’s face instantly softens, and she puts her hand on his chest. “You make me _so_ sad…” Annie draws on her words, watching his expression change ever so slightly. He tries to take her hand and get it back towards him, an attempt to take back his teasing.

“No, I’ll kiss you,” and he still leaned forward, almost frowning now by the lack of touch as if he wasn’t the one elongating the distance. “Annie — _Annalisa_ , I will,”

“You had your chance,” she tips her head up and away. This isn’t fair, she wants to kiss him, but if she won’t return the joke he’s laid out, then who will? “I guess I’ll die an old maid —“ giggles bubble up and interrupt her voice, and all because he’s stronger than her and is using that to his advantage, puckering his lips out and kissing the air, taking her hands in his finally. “ _Unmarried_ , unkissed, I’ll be alone forever,”

Again, words are hard to manage when the most of her voice is full of laughter, but that doesn’t seem to matter too much, as he breaks their game, kissing her right on the mouth, her full body immediately losing tension, her hand slipping away from his to delicately trace his features. All hers, it’s impossible not to truly know that. No Capitol lover or cruel, almost inhuman president could ever truly break that or possibly compare. He loves her, she knows that, he loves her more than he’s ever loved anything, or could ever dream of loving. In moments like these, no words were necessary to truly understand this.

“My Annie,” he chimed, which made her smile so wide it was more like he was kissing her teeth rather than her lips. And she drew him closer, attempting to loop one of her legs around his. “My beautiful Annie,” Finnick had made quite a habit of talking while kissing, but only for her. Only _she_ made him feel so comfortable, and want to refuse any distance at all. He could talk for hours with their lips on each other’s, bodies so tangled it was the only thing he could feel, with no intentions or plans, nothing raunchy, just them. No need for anything else.

“I like this,” Annie spoke up now, only she did break their kiss, putting her forehead to his, stroking his jawline with her thumb, where his facial hair had just started to grow back. “Scruffy,” she chuckled once and fluttered her eyes closed, just breathing and enjoying the intimacy.

“It’s not that bad,” Finnick said, and she wrinkled her face.

“It’s not bad at all,” she says. “I _like_ it,” and grins. He makes note of which expressions are which — a smile vs. a smirk, a giggle vs. a chuckle, it’s all important information. “It makes me happy, you’ve been home for that long,”

And that topic almost feels too heavy, he can’t be home forever. It’s been two weeks since he had to go back to the Capitol, and as much as he loves home, the uncertainty of when he’ll have to leave again makes him sick.  
Still, he forces out an honest “That makes me happy too,” despite the fear along with saying that. But to avoid anything getting too weighted, to shake the feeling off his chest before it grows suffocating. To _not_ let the Capitol win, to have control over himself while he’s home.

“Do you know what else makes me happy?” Finnick asks now, moving to hover more over her, some kind of playful smile on his face. Annie watches him closely, especially his eyes.

“Hm?” She raises a hand up to his hair, expecting some cheesy answer(like “ _you do, you make me so happy, Annalisa Cresta_ ”, although maybe she just likes how he says her name), but that doesn’t come. Instead, as she finds his head buried in her neck, gentle kisses pressed there, his hand hiking up her dress all the way up to her waist, and she opened her eyes, staring at the sky. It’s not too bright yet, it doesn’t hurt to look at, it’s pretty. Dawn is always pretty.

Even with his touch, she can’t find it in her to stop smiling, knowing better than to expect some kind of overtly sexual act, especially so out in the open. She knows him, she knows Panem, especially District 4. And Finnick knows it even better than her, he knows it too well. What he does has none of the footing it should — they don’t _want_ to have sex, not here.

“What game are you playing?” Annie asked gently, tilting her head to give him more space, humming contentedly when he rests his palm flat against her hip. It’s hard not to go nearly limp in his hands. Comforting, safe, familiar, strong. She doesn’t _have_ to keep herself up, he’ll do it for her. 

“Nothing,” another kiss, and he smiles. “I just love you ..” a more teasing tone murmured against the curve of where her neck meets her shoulder, “I love your body,” and he’s moving in a way she cannot calculate. If she looked down from the clouds and the sky she could, but she refused to. “I love how soft your skin is,” she swears she can feel him lick at her neck and she swats at his hair, laughter boiling up in her again. “I love it when sand gets on you, under your clothes, and you shake like a dog to get it out,”

“ _What_ _?_ ”

And with that, with his free hand, he scooped a handful of damp sand up and shoved it up her dress, smothering her stomach and ribs with it, his laughter almost matching hers when she shrieks with discomfort, sitting up to shove him off of her, only giggling when his head hit the ground.

“You are _a_ _wful_ , Finnick Odair!"

“It’s _fun_ ,”

She shakes her head, attempting to shovel and brush sand out of her dress, standing up to go and sit on his knees, tossing the sand onto him, Finnick complaining “No, Annie, that’s not fair,” when it coats his clothes. But she protests that it _is_ fair, so naturally, he tips his knees over and sends her into the water.

“You’re terrible!” Annie squeaks, kicking water at him. He’s laughing again, burying his face in against her _again_ , but this time it’s with the intent to tickle her and keep her laughing, letting his hands stay at her sides to make sure she feels stable. Even with his legs getting wet, it was worth it, anything to keep her happy.

“I’m washing you off,” he said as she tried to sit up, but toppled over again from giggling and kicking her legs, which only made him grin harder, especially when her foot hit his back. Annie shook her head and Finnick kissed her face once more. He used his hand to splash her stomach. “Yeah I am, that’s what the water’s for —“

“You tricked me —“

“I always do that,”

She scrunched up her face and swashed water up at his face, pushing him over and off of her again, making him fall deeper into the water. This was their good morning. Wrestling and kissing and giggling, a very good morning indeed.


End file.
